ChiChi's Ashes
by Star tsuneni
Summary: The tale of Gohan and Chichi during those hellish 7 years after the Cell games. 'He may love us, and he may be here now, but nothing can ever revive the Ashes....
1. Default Chapter

Haru: Hey y'all! I hope you enjoy this fic, cuz it's my DBZ version of Angela's Ashes, a book that I found captivating.

Goten: I liked it, too!

Yamcha: So did I!

Haru: Now, Yamcha, everyone knows you can't read!

Yamcha: Why You! Aims a punch at Haru

Haru: Goten!!

Goten kicks Yamcha's ass

Haru: Please, read on! Don't worry about Yamcha! He's getting his butt kicked as we speak, so you guys can read with happy hearts! See? Ki blasts Yamcha

From Gohan's Journal, Excerpt 22

It was raining again. Just like it did the day after Dad died. When we found out he didn't want to come back, everyone cried. Bulma, who had known Dad the longest, even longer than my own mother, even longer than dad's best friend, Krillin, yelled and screamed and called him a selfish bastard. I didn't like her talking about my dad like that, but what could I do? Tell her she was wrong for missing her friend? Mirai Trunks stood in silence with the only expression he had ever really known, a hardened face with ice cold eyes. Chibi Trunks cried, but he didn't known a damned thing about my father, he was probably just hungry. Krillin just cried and kept screaming 'Goku!' in his little nasal voice. Tien, normally unemotional, looked away and did not say anything to the group. 18 just said a little prayer for father and flew off. Piccolo stayed under a tree nearby and looked so deep in thought that if you got to close you might get sucked in. Dende's facial features just kinda fell into a frown.

Vegeta just looked up at the sky as though expecting father to drop from it, and then he would be able to kill my father. You could tell that he was angry that Cell had done what had been for him so impossible, killing Dad, by the way his fists were clenched. He said it himself he would be the only one to get that privilege and if anybody else tried he would kill them, but he lied to himself and to everyone else.

Mother. Mother crumbled and rolled on the ground. She wept so bitterly I could taste her tears. I could taste her tears because they could not possibly be much different from my own, which were flowing down my face freely now. I had tried not to cry, I knew if it were Krillin or Piccolo that had died Dad would tell me not to cry, to be strong for them. But Dad wasn't here now, and he didn't _want_ to come back. _He didn't want to be with us_.

I was starting to feel another wave of pain coming along, but this one was twice as painful. Only part of it was from losing my Dad, though. The other part was from Mom digging her nails into me so fiercely. I wanted to gather up all of her tears, summon my dad back to Earth, and fucking drown him for what he'd done to her. To _us._ I loved him and needed him so damn bad and he was gone.. Mom is delirious now, but fully conscious, she's moaning father's name and pounding her fists in the dirt and crying and throwing a tantrum, but no one is trying to stop her or calm her.

I was bleeding now from where my skin was pierced, but I didn't care. The rain water washed blood into my clothes , but it was just a tattered purple gi and it didn't matter. Nothing really mattered now. Now that Daddy was gone. 

I wanted to be in Other World with him, but I couldn't leave Momma alone in the world. Of course, she'd have the new baby, since she's now officially six weeks pregnant, but I couldn't leave that baby alone in the world with mother either.

When Shen Long had left and the seven dormant dragonballs scattered to the winds, everyone went home, choking and sobbing. Piccolo and Vegeta of course, showed not even the slightest tint of emotion. I went to pick up mother, but she turned me away. She told me to go ahead and fly home, that she wanted to walk. I told her that's it was at least twenty miles and she could catch her death from all the rain. Then she screamed at me to 'Just go, Gohan!' and I flew home, couldn't have flown faster if the devil was at my heels.

I lied down in bed and cried for two more hours, wet clothes and all, before I heard the familiar jingling of keys and the slam of a door being open and shut. Mom was home. I expected to see her come past my room, my door was right open and right before her room. I expected to see her bawling her eyes out, even though I could barely see anything the way my eyes were clouded with tears. But instead I heard the creaking of a cabinet. Mother had every cabinet that she used well oiled around the hinges, so only one could possibly squeak. The cabinet where Mom kept the sake. I used my sensitive hearing to detect exactly what was going on, and I heard many things. Mom's whimpering, the settling of her body in the old arm chair, the twist of a cap of the old sake bottles.

Then I heard my mom sing and I wished she wouldn't. I mean her voice was beautiful, but when she sang it was because her soul was weakening. Don't ask me how I know this but I do. I listen in and cry along with her.

_Strumming dub plates with our fingers,_

_ Eliminate sounds with our song, _

_ Killing a sound boy with this sound,_

_ Killing a sound boy,_

_ with this sound, _

_ Taking sound boys' lives with this dub,_

_ Killing him softly with this sound._

I didn't understand why she picked this song. _Strumming dub plates with our fingers,_ Who was strumming dub plates? What were dub plates? _Eliminating sounds with our song_.... What? _Killing a sound boy with this song, Killing a sound boy with this sound._ Who were the sound boys? _Taking sound boy's lives with this dub._ Why would we take there lives.. Unless they were the bad guys? Ok, sound boys=bad guys? _Killing him softly with this sound._ How were they killing him now? I thought they were killing sound boys?

_Strumming my pain with his fingers, _

_ Singing my life with his words, _

_ Killing me softly with his song, _

_ Killing me softly with his song, _

_ Telling my whole life with his words, _

_ Killing me softly with his song. _

_Strumming my pain with his fingers,_ Who was strumming mom's pain with their fingers? Dad, because he died? It could be, he does have very powerful fingers. But how can a person strum someone's pain, if it's not a string? _Singing my life with his words_. Dad doesn't sing! Oh, this is so confusing!! _Killing me softly with his song, Killing me softly with his song, _ Killing her softly with his song? I had only heard dad sing once, and he wasn't too good. But how was his song killing her, Dad never sang? _Telling my whole life with his words._ How would that hurt? I mean plenty of people write biographies and stuff, but that usually makes people feel good.

_I heard he sang a good song, _

_ I heard he had a style, _

_ And so I came to see him and listen for a while. _

_ And there he was this young boy, _

_ Stranger to my eyes, _

_I heard he sang a good song,_ But I thought Dad was a bad singer! Maybe mom doesn't think so. _I heard he had a style, _But Mom always had to pick dad's clothes! Except for his gi, of course. Hmmm... maybe he could play the drums or guitar. _And so I came to see him and listen for a while._ Where was he that she had to go see him? He's always at home except when he's either dead or in a battle. _And there he was this young boy, _Young boy? Maybe she went to go see him when he was younger. _Stranger to my eyes, _Yeah, now it DEFINITELY has to be from when they were little. 

_ Strumming my pain with his fingers, _

_ Singing my life with his words, _

_ Killing me softly with his song, _

_ Killing me softly with his song, _

_ Telling my whole life with his words, _

_ Killing me softly with his song. _

Again, but I still don't know what it means!! Oh, I can't bear it!!

_ I felt all flushed with fever, _

_ Embarrassed by the crowd, _

_ I felt he found my letters and read each one out loud._

_ I prayed that he would finish, _

_ But he just kept right on _

_I felt all flushed with fever._ Did mom get sick? _Embarrassed by the crowd,_ I don't blame her, I'd be embarrassed if I got sick in front of them, too. _I felt he found my letters and read each one aloud,_ Wait.... does that mean that she wrote dad love letters? And he read them all to the crowd?!! That's mean. _I prayed that he would finish_, Why didn't she leave? _But he just kept right on_ Why, why did he hurt mom? Why didn't he just stop? Didn't he know she was there, and that he was humiliating her?

_Strumming my pain with his fingers, _

_ Singing my life with his words, _

_ Killing me softly with his song, _

_ Killing me softly with his song, _

_ Telling my whole life with his words, _

_ Killing me softly with his song _

_ Strumming my pain with his fingers, _

_ Singing my life with his words, _

_ Killing me softly with his song, _

_ Killing me softly with his song, _

_ Telling my whole life with his words, _

_ Killing me softly with his song. _

_ Strumming my pain with his finger, yeah he was . . .. _

I couldn't take it anymore, I had to run away, to get away from Mom's song. To get away from all the talk about Dad's death. I didn't want to hear it, feel it anymore. So I opened my window and flew out into the pouring rain.

I came back one hour later, because I realized. I realized that I could never escape Mom's song, because I had it memorized, forever in my head, and I could never get away from dad's death, because I had it in my heart. And the fiery pits of hell couldn't compare.

The wake is today, and the funeral is tomorrow. I have to get into my suit. I thank Dende I don't have to prepare a speech at dad's wake. Bulma said I didn't have to, and mom is too tired to object or agree to anything anymore.

Gohan


	2. The Wake and the Awakening

Haru: Chapter Two. Enjoy.

From the Journal of Son Gohan, Excerpt 23

The wake was today. Since we had no remains to bury, there isn't going to be a funeral. The wake was our last goodbye. Bulma provided the place for the wake. There was food, but no one could stomach it. Anyone who tried to eat immediately ran into the bathroom and threw it all up. Everyone but Vegeta, who wasn't as phased by my father's death, and 18 and Piccolo, who don't eat. Sadness can do that to you, make your stomach so tense that you just can't keep anything down.

No one gave a speech about my father, no one knew what to say, and those who did didn't have the heart to go up there. What could we say? 'He saved all of our lives, over and over again. He freed galaxies from the evil reign of the overlord Frieza. In the future, the world crumbled because he died. But when it came time for him to be a hero for his family, to be there for them, he could care less, that he didn't want to?' That wasn't exactly the portrayal of my father that I desired, but that's what everyone was thinking, I knew it. So we all just sort of walked around in tears, until we crossed paths with someone. Then we embraced that person and cried harder. It wasn't very pleasant, but that's the death of a hero for you.

We all said our goodbyes in private, we figured that would be the best way. Everyone had their own memories of and with father, and they should get to 'talk' with him in private. Since we had no body, we put a picture of father as a centerpiece for some very lovely flowers, including forget-me-nots and poppies. Above was a stone figure of a mourning dove.

We all said our prayers for him in silence. We knew he wouldn't be dropped into HFIL but it's the thought that counts, even if we aren't talking about Valentine's day. Then the wake was over.

Bulma said that me and mom shouldn't have to go through this alone, especially with mom being pregnant and all, and that we could live with her as long as we needed to. Mom firmly refused, but in the end Bulma got her to agree to at least stay the night. So I hurried back to Mt. Paozu (A/N if that isn't spelled right, please let me know in your review.) with Vegeta, who had somehow been forced by Bulma to go with me and help me carry the things. She said that no matter how strong a boy is he shouldn't have to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders. When she said 'carry the weight of the world on his shoulders' she her voice got really low and sad sounding, like she felt sorry for some reason. Vegeta yelled at her that it wasn't the world I was going to be carrying, it was just pajamas and toothbrushes. Then Bulma yelled that she didn't give a damn if it was a penny I was bringing, that Vegeta was going to carry it because that's what grown men are supposed to do.

So Vegeta tagged along, looking as angry as heck. When we landed at the house, he stood outside. Apparently he wasn't going to listen to Bulma, but I really didn't care. I got my mom's toothbrush, her pajamas, my toothbrush, my pajamas, my mom's heating pad for her bad back, and a change of clothes for the both of us.

When I got outside I was ready to take to the air, but Vegeta put his hand in my way. He promptly snatched the bag of stuff from my hand and took off. I followed suit, and all the way behind him I could hear him mutter "stupid onna making me carry another person's stuff, do I look like a fucking bellhop?" I didn't comment. I knew better.

When we arrived at Capsule Corp., Vegeta tossed the bag to me so suddenly and with such force I nearly fell over. I walked inside alone, kicking my shoes off in the doorway. Bulma was there to open the door for me, chibi Trunks in her arms. She gave the stuff to one of her robots and told it where to place what. She sat me down at the table and told me mom was already asleep, but I was more than welcome to stay downstairs. She told me my room would be the second on the right on the 3rd floor. She shuffled over to the oven and turned on the stove. She asked me if I would like anything to eat. I was hesitant, not wanting to impede upon Bulma's comfort, but a long growl from my stomach came as a reply. Bulma didn't look over at me, just nodded and, setting Trunks on the floor, began to chop chicken and put it in a skillet. I had spent the whole day throwing up my innards, but I decided I had the speed to make it to the bathroom if my stomach decided to be disagreeable.

Chibi Trunks tugged at my leg, and I picked him up and sat him in his high chair. He was going to be a 8 months old soon, and he was nearing the time when saiyans began to eat solid food. I could see he already had enough teeth.

Pleasant smells filled the kitchen, and Bulma dumped what had to be a barrel full of cooked rice into a giant bowl. She had one of the robots carry it over and lay it in front of me. Then another robot came over and dropped a slightly smaller dish full of chicken, shellfish, carrots, peas, and tomatoes in a yellow-brown, like caramel, sauce.

She gave Trunks an average adult male sized serving of rice and the nameless-meat-and- vegetable dish, which he smothered all over his little face. I asked her what it was called and she said it was Niku-ninjin.(A/N It means meat-carrots, I couldn't think of another name!) She set my bowl and utensils before me. I stood up and bowed with respect and gratefulness, she nodded and smiled at me, and then went over to the sink to put the dishes in the dishwasher. I assumed she and mom had eaten already. I scooped myself a helping of rice, and was just about to scoop some of the Niku-ninjin when Vegeta came from nowhere and snatched it from me. I wasn't about to object, and I had no right to, this wasn't my house, but Bulma said "Oh, no you don't!", and handed it right back to me. Vegeta didn't get so much as a drop of sauce to his plate, much less to his mouth.

She pointed a manicured finger up the stairs and told Vegeta he wouldn't get a grain of rice until he got in the shower. She said he looked and smelled like dog shit and didn't even have the decency to wear something nice to Goku's wake, his final one. Then Vegeta screamed he could do what he wants, he's the saiyan prince, and that if he wanted to eat, no ningen wench was going to stop him.

I played with Trunks, not making a motion for the food, making small ki balls explode into little bits of harmless light, he giggled and clapped his hands. I felt really awkward in the situation, and I didn't want Trunks to start crying. The fight came to a close when Bulma shouted that she'd put him out, and then he wouldn't have any food at all, followed by Vegeta's sharp reply that he didn't give a rat's ass, that he'd just go around killing people and taking what he wanted. Then Bulma gave the final blow. She retorted that if he went around killing people that _I _would kill him. Not her, not Yamcha or Tien, not Piccolo.... _me_. Me, a boy that wasn't even fourteen yet, and happened to be Kakarot's son. Vegeta just got this dark look on his face and stomped upstairs.

Bulma let out an exhausted sigh and shook her head. She saw me playing with Trunks with an uncomfortable look on my face and came over to me. "Go ahead, Gohan, eat. Don't mind him, he's a real jerk at times." She gave me a bright- but fake- smile. I helped myself to humble portions, just enough to keep me from dying with hunger. I made my ascent to bed. Bulma asked me if I wanted to stay and watch tv or something, but I said that I was tired. She nodded, and whispered "yeah, it was a rough day, wasn't it?". I agreed and she let me on my way. I headed to my room, and there were my pajamas, neatly folded with my toothbrush on top. I headed for the bathroom, took a shower and brushed my teeth. I came into my room, all clad in my dark green pajamas. I could hear the gentle snoring of my mom across the hall, the sweet notes of Trunks's lullaby, and all was quiet with the night.

I'm really tired now, and I best get to bed. Mom'll want me up early tomorrow, she'll probably want to eat breakfast at our house.

Gohan

Haru: The next chapter contains a little sexual content, but it is FAR from lemon, hell its not even lime. I'll be trying to update everyday or two days, so if you like it, please review! A little encouragement can go very far!


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